TortureMetal clanked as consciousness gripped him, causing him to toss a bit in his dazed state. The sounds of the bonds gripping his wrists tightly reminded him of the day before. The smooth touch of her hands and the slow agony she had caused him as the cool knife cut through his skin. The cold, cutting laughter she had made before she left, twirling the knife through her fingers with a strange mastered skill as if she had years of experience. The red that coated the knife, that now lay in small droplets on the floor, having slid off the sharp metal. The groans and yells, shrieks and pleads he had made, still echoing off the walls around him.Torture8 years ago in Horror More Like This
Grunting, his eyes opened slowly, wincing as he did so. One brown eye could be seen, but the other was covered by eyelids with black, blue, and purple shadings, caused by the butt of the knife. He turned his head to look to his right, but his vision blackened with sudden dizziness and his head began to throb. He closed his eyes, waiting for the throbbi
Feminism is no longer feminismFeminism is no longer feminismFeminism is no longer feminism6 years ago in Editorial More Like This
What has happened to all the women who claimed to be feminist? The number of real feminists in the actuality is really small compared to the past century and all that is thanks to a misconception of the topic.
Feminism principal objective is for both genders to be considered as equals and to have the same rights, but now feminism is seen as the way of thinking that women are better than men and therefore should have more rights and opportunities than men. People who claim to be pro-feminists are mostly separatist feminist who share many characteristics with misanthropes, or people who have an extreme hatred towards men just because they are men. After haring how women talk about men and feeling the hatred they have towards men saying that that feeling is part of being a feminist there is no wonder why there exists anti-feminist movements.
Women who hate men arent any better than the men who used to treat women as inferior beings, but that is somethi
learning how to lose.last winter i fell in love.learning how to lose.5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
i fell in love with a boy who had jutting collar bones and skinny legs, and whose mousy brown hair curled in all the wrong places, who had perfectly thin lips.
he kissed me for the first time in the middle of the night, and we sat on an old brown couch, under two blankets shivering in the cold watching the stars and waiting for the sunrise.
last spring i was his world.
he was everything i'd ever needed, everything i'd ever imagined. he told me he'd love me forever and ever, and that i was more important than anything in the world. one night, he spent hours on end reading me fairy tales from all over the world, until i fell asleep curled up against his chest. he'd walk me home, and i'd tell him of my father, and he'd tell me of his mother. some times i felt like i could just watch him forever. brush my fingers through his hair until the end of time.
last summer i lost my mind.
i never slept. i never ate. and he was always there. he'd hold me through the night
Bringer of the NightBringer of the Night:Bringer of the Night3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Born from the kiss of a goddess
And drenched in the cauldron of lies.
He emerged as a being of entropy
Bearing the mark of flies...
His wings were made from crow-like feathers
Black as the dust of the night.
His fangs were laden with horrid infection
Made from the stone of blight.
A single bite, was poison enough
And soon they began to change...
The children loved by the lady in white
Soon they became deranged.
Powerful beings of might and magic
They soared through the moonlit sky!
They flew amongst the twinkling stars
But their gift was a burning lie...
Falling to the ground like choking insects
Crawling in the dirt with a painful thirst.
These creatures needed the taste of blood
And their friends would be the first.
Neighbours, comrades, it mattered not!
Survival become an instinctive drive.
To bite and feed was a natural feeling
And horror came when night arrived.
Men or women, children who slept;
Through windows and doors they would slithe
Confused EmotionsI feel lost, out of place,Confused Emotions12 years ago in Other More Like This
All I do is take up space
I leave myself thinking
What am I here for?
Nobody wants me.
Nobody loves me.
What am I doing here?
Where's the answer?
Where's the signs?
Where's my reason?
Where's my line?
How did I get here?
Why did I come?
Why don't I leave?
Do I know you?
When can we go home.
Why am I so sad?
Nothing's gone wrong...
Why do I feel so down?
Nobodie's hurt me...
Why is it so cold?
It's hot outside...
Why am I so scared?
I am not alone...
Why does helping hurt?
I try to be nice...
Why do they bug me?
I didn't bug them...
Why do I feel lost?
I'm inside my house...
Why don't I feel loved?
Punctuating Poetry Part TwoShifting GearsPunctuating Poetry Part Two7 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
The great thing about punctuation is that there is rarely one single, correct, perfect way to punctuate a poem. Given to a number of different poets, a poem could be punctuated and re-punctuated in as many different ways.
So let's take a breather from so many rules and look at Leave the Door Open, by KrystalIce:
Damn; I should've left the door open.
At first glance, this could make a grammarian twitch! It's just a jumble of symbols and shapes and - hey, take a deep breath. Come back down from Oxford and pay attention.
This poem is an example of using punctuation, not just to punctuate ideas but to illustrate
EmbersYou're so beautiful I'm taken aback, everytimeEmbers5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You seem to smile at nothing at all.
In this roomful of your tears I'm all dry.
And I can't help but ask
If I should cry for you.
Because everytime I am overwhelmed (almost enthralled)
At the way your hair touches your forehead,
And how the smile never seems to reach your
If you could tell me one thing I wouldn't
Want to know,
You could explain to me the horizons that
Embrace the distance in your eyes -
Because the length of their fields
Never fails to keep me in awe (almost captivated).
I would never dream of extinguishing the embers -
The smoldering coals -
Because when the smoke appears
I am trapped in its essence
And I can't help but wonder
If you will break into flame.
I am mesmerized (almost hypnotized)
By the flickering of your stare.
The KnowingThe KnowingThe Knowing14 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
by jsenn (Joy Senn)
not quite the same
not quite the same as before
before the papered golden ring
before the child from swaddling grew
before the hand of unheard aches
touched us here and here and here
we never knew
I swear to you, we never knew
(we live forever. don't we? nope.)
(does it get better? yup.)
falling leaves . spring renews . summer's sweat
I do digress
now is more
more than before
now we know the knowing
and the power in the word
knowing some mountains won't be climbed
knowing some oceans won't be crossed
knowing the awful wait does end
that patience is not the heavy load
knowing even this
...the rose's scent before the sniff
and this...oh, this, of greater import now
knowing the slightest grin
the unseen move
the imperceptible glint of eye
the elegant, the elegant
there you have it, boiled down
hopes and dreams, love and life
contained by the beginning
smooth assurance, abiding time
Addicting TortureClosing my eyes I see youAddicting Torture4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In the distance...
I reach out to touch you,
But it's not real and the fragments disperse.
I open my eyes
And a tear rolls down my cheek.
Why do your memories always lead to a cry?
I just stay stuck in the shadows of you.
Trying to climb out of this dark corner
I try to push away the thought of "us".
Try to convince myself that you don't care
And that you will always be my loving torture.
The spears of your words
Pierce right through my heart.
An immense pain that I must suffer
In order to realize we've ripped apart.
Hours of silence don't comfort me,
They mock me because I'm all alone.
You bruised and scarred me,
Scraped through my skin to the bone.
I'm completely broken because of you
But I put on a smile to disguise such horror.
I've lost my sanity
Because deep down I believe you're my lover.
How different things now seem...
Cracks in every glass.
Sometimes I wish you'd love me...
So that I wouldn't die so fast.
Nightmares?-yaoi-Nightmares?-yaoi-9 years ago in Erotic More Like This
As much as I fought it, sleep eventually found me. All the coffee in the world couldn't help me. I can only rest against my pillow and mattress for now, awaiting any possible new....should I call them nightmares? No...I'm not scared of them..I'm not scared in them...what are they then? Wet dream? No...can't be that either because we don't have sex....just interact with eachother...and it felt good...dammit....what the fuck do I call myself? Am I considered gay now? A faggot?....I don't think I'm one....but why am I dreaming all this...this....nonsense! Theres no way this could happen in real life....I don't even know how they happen in my head...why am I thinking up all this while I sleep? And what the hell happened that time in the pool? Richard breathing into me, did he mean that? That look in his eyes when he got out seemed like it was all a joke before putting on the sunglasses and lighting his smoke. Why did he do that? This whole thing started to make me mad. Him co
My Consuming FireThe fire that burns through my soulMy Consuming Fire9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
That is my essence, hungers ever more
For something to consume before it consumes me
And I burn out
Got you Draco x Reader"Hey (l/n)" a cold voice whispers from behind you. You jump out of your skin and point your wand in the face of the smirking boy crouching beside the leather couch you had nestled yourself in.Got you Draco x Reader1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Holy sh- you scared me to death Malfoy!"
"What were you even doing, and put you wand away you're going to poke someone's eye out" he asks annoyingly.
"I was doing something called reading! I know that you may be unfamiliar with the concept, shall I explain it to you" you say sarcastically, he rolls his eyes and stands again. Assuming he'd gotten bored with you and your nerdy book you continued reading. You were just getting into it when you feel someone push your feet off the couch and sit in the place they used to occupy.
"Why are you reading anyway?" He asks. You sigh and place your bookmark carefully in its correct place and slam the book shut, plopping it on your lap.
"What do you want Malfoy?" You ask, glancing longingly at your book.
"No respectable Slytherin should be reading like you do"
The Writing ProcessWhat is the Writing Process?The Writing Process7 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Many of us learned that the writing process is made up of five parts: Pre-writing, Writing, Revision, Editing, and Publishing. Indeed, this process has been so ingrained, and the vocabulary and terms have become such a part of our education, that some students (and adults) feel as if writing is a formulaic, rigid thingnot unlike learning mathematicsthat they simply never excelled in. Fortunately, this simply isn't true. While the five basic steps of the writing process are effective, they can only be effective if the people using the process understand the purpose of each step.
Experience has shown that many students do not know the purpose of drafting beyond a certain, vague understanding that you're supposed to "correct" or "fix" something for each new draft. Its unfortunate, but its also been shown that students who are forced to Pre-Write in certain ways, even when they have been
Piano handsHands were gently placed on the delicate black and white keys of the piano. Each note was hit with a soft gentle force of the finger upon it. The weight and speed, the harshness and the softness, the little tricks and stunts pulled when needed to add that little extra to just to the right place. The flow and melody of the music was like a running river flow downstream, fast and furious and youthful at the start and then gentle and smooth and old towards the end. The progression in the piece moved so skilfully it was stunning and awe inspiring to listen and close your eyes and pretend for an instance you were sailing on this river and seeing its transformation form young to old and then to see it become part of a bigger picture.Piano hands4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The hands moved with accuracy and punctuality in perfect upkeep with the music being portrayed. There was no need for words here or talk or even a single other sound but that of the wonderful instrument. It was simply played with he emotion and expertise of
Flying Away.Flying Away.Flying Away.9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
A beautiful joyful red robin left the cage 4 day's ago,
nobody knows where he and life is like the painting "Starry Night" painted by Vincent Van Gogh.
Dark and depressing,
sadness in the air as a cold wind hit's the house blowing through the window dressing.
The robin met the whole world to the owner,
the bird always made him laugh because he was a loner ever since his wife never got an organ donor.
The owner would sit on his chair and watch his little red robin friend,
however, he stands on his chair about to come to an end.
He grabbed his black leather belt from his dresser,
he closed the windows with his window dressing.
He wraps the belt around his neck,
the last thing he looked before jumping off his chair was his Star Trek toy.
He left a note next to the chair,
His spirit is flying away,
into the unknown.
The cold wind has stopped blowing,
the house is dead silent.
The robin flew back to the house,
The robin see's the body.
The robin starts crying.
Settle Down with Me: Chapter 18HARRY'S POV:Settle Down with Me: Chapter 183 years ago in Romance More Like This
My suitcase was starting to fill up and I was getting really excited for the wedding. I smiled shyly at Emily lying on my bed beside my luggage as she inspected the shirt I was packing and gave me a quick nod. I dropped it onto her chest for her to fold as I walked back to my wardrobe. She kept up a normal conversation and I answered when needed, focused on packing. I turned around to face her again and her eyes looked different, almost like they were scared.
"What's wrong?" I asked as I grabbed her face in my hands.
"Harry we're going to have fun this weekend right, nothing's gonna go wrong?" She asked quietly.
"Course, I promise to take care of you" I whispered never moving my eyes from hers. She nodded and gave me a smile as she pulled away from my hands and pulled herself into a sitting position. I watched her put my final few shirts into the luggage and pat them once before giving me my favorite grin. I started to do the stiff zippe
Ignorance is BlissMark knew this was a bad idea. Still, he needed to know the truth.Ignorance is Bliss5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Just a few weeks ago, some middle-aged couple - Mr. and Mrs. Rellik - moved into the old mansion just outside of town. This is the type of house people would consider "haunted" if it was abandoned for enough years. Looking around, though, Mark could tell that the only thing unusual about this house is that it was really, really big. A lot of half-unpacked boxes were strewn about, and the furniture was covered in rooms that were clearly being painted. In fact, most of the rooms were still bare, and it didn't look like the couple had enough belongings to fill them all up.
Nobody was home, but Mark felt nervous anyways, and not just because he was trespassing on private property. He'd come here to investigate the rumors flying around town about the new residents. Most of them revolved around the fact that nobody had ever seen Mr. Rellik, only his wife. Mrs. Rellik was also an enigma: she was pretty good-looki
Settle Down with Me: Chapter 26LIAM'S POV:Settle Down with Me: Chapter 263 years ago in Romance More Like This
"You've got ten minutes" I flinched at how sad those words made me, she was mad at me- it was real now. I'm not angry with Niall for kidnapping me; she and I had to talk eventually- might as well do the hard part now.
"Well I don't really know where to start" I said scratching my neck.
"I know where" She said as she finally looked me in the eye.
"First of all, if you had an issue with me going to that wedding you should have told me because I asked multiple times if you were okay with it. Secondly, Harry is my best friend and I haven't done anything with him or said anything that would lead to him thinking there was something going on between us. If you are upset about something then say it to me, don't just hide it away until you get drunk and scream at me in your backyard" She snapped, taking a deep breath.
"I didn't want to seem possessive and crazy, like I couldn't trust you around my friends" I said in a quiet voice.
Zelophehad's Daughters: What Makes Us StayThis is what makes us girls:Zelophehad's Daughters: What Makes Us Stay2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we are always second
'cause they put boys first.
Shackled to men,
our fate bound to theirs -
we pay for what we cannot help.
This is what makes us girls:
we always lose double
just because of our birth.
Our father is gone,
our fate bound to his -
left destitute, losing everything.
This is what makes us girls:
we won't take this lying down,
won't cry about it,
we'll do something about it,
for we are bound to God
who sees everything.
This is what makes us stay:
knowing our God
created us the same;
trusting He's above
not preferring boys,
not preferring girls
but caring for our needs
and giving us our right.
InnocenceClasping a realm of dreams where idealism parts,Innocence5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I want to save the child within this
Consumed and throttled with the breaking of hearts,
This innocence is drifting from life
Slipping from battered fingers and parting from soul,
Blood thickly coating this untainted skin
To join the damned, will I, to be ingested whole
Banish these sins this filth envelopes
My eyes have darkened from the past of ageless wounds
Words speak bitter with new found hatred
A brutal confrontation between both sun and moon,
Lose the tie between child and victim
TortureSupported by the cold wallTorture9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Weakly he slumps back
Pressed against his bare flesh
Hanging his head in the black
Quivering as his mind aches
His withering figure collapses
A skeletal ball on the hard floor
As his every thought elapses
Alone and never acknowledged
Slowly deceasing, rotting away
In the midst of not knowing
About the outside in any way
Locked away from everything
The anguish and pain cascading
As his mind caves in on itself
Tears of tortured pain escaping
Freely flowing he trembles
Weak and small in the dark
He crawls slowly on the floor
Scraping a bleeding fresh mark
Sobs fill the dead silence around
A tear stained horrid shriek
A scream of total loneliness
As he falls into all that's bleak
Anguished he had nothing left
Nothing left within his frame
But empty thoughts
Of how the unknown made his pain
sanctify?hello, let's glorify.sanctify?4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
fishnets and lace draped
deathly pale skin be
-cause that's just so
don't show the tears, don't
show her crying. (it has to be a her;
girls are fragile. gorgeously so.) just
let us see how her thick black
scalding her hollow cheeks in
li[n]es perpendicular to her
don't make us feel
her pain. we don't want to
for her. but do, oh by all
means do show
it to us. we want to see her,
hello, let's beautify.
picture this baby. snap
those delicate wrists, thin
as fuck, green-blue veins peeking
layers of skin. grass-green, sky-green,
[scars all around.]
her [through the] chest, bony
breasts. ((ignore the sag. mal
-nutrition would do that to
too.)) she's bent over the toilet
bowl (extra points for ambiguity),
sure it's somewhat repulsive if you consider
the taste of vomit in her lipstick-lined
mouth. but that's the trick,
Incident on a BridgeIncident on a BridgeIncident on a Bridge6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
after Donald Justice
There because I was unsure
where else to bear my loss,
I stopped at Haizhu bridge
where many unsteady hands have given
every hope and sorrow to gravity.
And there I climbed out to wait,
bankrupt and listening to the river
cussing, the breath of the crowd
below. And the day was long
on the beams before I saw
the familiar stranger standing
hooded in his shadow
black lips, black teeth, watching
among the passers-by, his eyes
hard as bone. His blade
brushed each back that pushed
past him as traffic thickened
in the alleys of Guangzhou.
And I knew him by this his spine
unbent and the angle of his arms the air
a sudden zest of chrysanthemums.
Sir, apart from any threatening
gesture, I'd guessed the appointment
he meant to keep with me,
even as his eyes left mine
and I followed them, turning
to look over my shoulder
which is how I first caught
sight of the shoeless man
approaching in his t-shirt, his hand
epinephrineIt's the fight-or-flight response, you told me, the world around us brush with dragonflies.epinephrine4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's acute stress. You come back & the colors are brighter, and seeing you in the enhanced light replaces my blood with fear. A rush like anaesthesia falls, flooding my feet, forcing me to flee. Maybe it is love that paralyses me. My only protection from you is the hope that a few words can change a few years. A tangle of emotion & manipulated cliches, farewells & blase excuses.
Hyperarousal, you said. You are the same yet I never know you; your thoughts are diseased hearts beating out of rhythm & the mystery of it all is how you managed to cut my wings so short. I will fly from you & scale mountains, soar over frigid waters, just to meet you again each night in timid corners of dreamscapes. I can't escape your memory or what it's done to me.
Keep all the pretty words I wrote for you, I want their meanings back.